


Future Sight

by Kosaji



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Coitus Interruptus, F/F, Food Porn, Humor, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Multi, Ten Year Bazooka (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 08:01:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18634084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kosaji/pseuds/Kosaji
Summary: The 10 year Bazooka can switch you with your ten year older self for 5 minutes. Sometimes it comes in handy. Other times it goes off at the most inopportune moment.Like in the middle of making out with your lover.





	Future Sight

**Tsuna/Mukuro**

 

Tsuna groans into Mukuro’s mouth as the  other man grinds up against him, their cocks brushing together, sending  sparks racing up his spine. Mukuro grabs his ass, pulling him up  further against him and Tsuna really doesn’t mind. It’s been over a  month since he’s seen his lover and he wants to make their limited free  time count. 

He groans into Mukuro’s mouth and moves his hands out  to shove the ridiculous jacket he keeps wearing off his shoulders when  there is a pop and a cloud of pink smoke.

Tsuna collapses as  Mukuro’s form disappears, replaced by someone smaller, and he scrambles  off them just as a trident is thrust where his head previously was.

"Sawada  Tsunayoshi," a seventeen years old Mukuro sneers up at him as the smoke  dissipates. Tsuna presses his lips together to hide the smile. He  honestly forgot just how dramatic Mukuro was when he was a teenager. Not  that he isn’t as dramatic now.

“Hello Mukuro,” Tsuna says, stepping towards the door. “Would you like something to drink? Soda, water?”

Mukuro  slowly lowers the trident, taking a look around the room. “Why am I in  your bedroom?” he asks slowly, registering his location. “And what am I  doing on your bed?”

Aaaand time for a distraction.

"How  about some ice cream instead?" Tsuna says quickly, opening the  mini  fridge in his room. At the small freezer is a tub of Mukuro’s favorite brand of chocolate ice  cream.

He turns to see Mukuro with a dumbfounded expression at the treat offered to him.

"You  are offering me ... ice cream," Teen Mukuro says, raising his trident  up slightly. "Do you think I am a child who can be swayed with bribes?“

Well  you’re too young to bribe the other way, Tsuna thinks uncharitably. He  bats away the illusion of the ceiling falling, giving Mukuro a deadpan  look when the teen blinks in surprise. 

“Ice cream?” he offers  again, keeping his body language nonthreatening as possible. If Mukuro  would have accepted the offer or not Tsuna would never know, as the same  pink smoke appears, bringing back his Mukuro.

Who is smirking, the very expression of a cat who got into the treats cupboard. Tsuna bites back a groan and sets the ice cream down. “What did you do?”

Mukuro  just smirks, wrapping his arms around Tsuna’s waist, walking his  fingers up his back. “I forgot just how cute you were was back then,” he  says, smirk going wider at Tsuna’s unimpressed face. “Oh don’t be like  that, I’m sure Takeshi and Hayato will stop guarding baby you’s bedroom  eventually.”

Tsuna groans and knocks his head against Mukuro’s  shoulder. “Why do I even like you?” he despairs, resisting then finally  giving in as Mukuro drops kisses over his face. 

Whatever, Past Tsuna can deal, Present Tsuna has a boyfriend he has to undress. 

 

* * *

 

**Ryouhei/Yamamoto**

 

Ryouhei  groans, grabbing at Takeshi’s firm ass as the other man grinds down  with a laugh, brushing their clothes erections together. He digs his fingers into thick muscle, two fingers slipping into the cleft to rub at the hole there as Takeshi’s laugh chokes off and he grinds down harder. He’s burning hot against Ryouhei’s fingers, even through his boxers and  Ryouehi makes a rough sound, one hand reaching up around Takeshi’s neck  to bring him down for a kiss while the other rubs and rubs, their cocks  grinding into each other’s hips as they move against each other desperately. 

Takeshi is licking into his mouth when there is a  burst of pink - god Ryouhei is starting to EXTREMELY hate that color- and a sixteen year old Takeshi blinks at him from his lap. 

“Hey  Sasagawa-senpai!” teenage Takeshi says, looking around as the smoke  dissipates. “How come I ended up-” Takeshi freezes as he shifts forward  and brushes against up a still very interested part of his body. “What  was that?”

Kill him now. “You’re on my lap,” Ryouhei says  brightly, because there really isn’t any point in deflecting now. Please  stop asking, he begs mentally.

And he sends a firm demand to his dick to behave. 

“Ahahaha… and what did I just feel?” Takeshi is making that fake face he wears when he doesn’t want you to tell him the truth. 

Ryouhei tells him the truth anyways. “My dick.”

Silence. “Oh.”

Yeah,  oh. Ryouhei sends a firmer demand for his dick to stand down but his  dick is a traitor who likes how nice and warm Takeshi is, and how it  feels pressed against the seam of his thigh and groin. 

“So…” Takeshi trails off uncertainly. “Are we … ?”

“Dating,”  Ryouhei nods, taking pity on him. He also wishes Takeshi would move but  that might be potentially embarrassing for them both. 

So they  just stared at each other awkwardly as Ryouhei’s traitorous dick  finally gets the memo and dies down. The poof of smoke the hearlds his Takeshi’s arrival is met with relief, until he gets a look at his boyfriend’s  sheepish face. 

“So I might have traumatized Hayato and Tsuna… and your sister.”

“You EXTREMELY did what?”

 

* * *

 

**Kyouya/Hayato**

 

His back hits the bed but that is the only concession he gives Hayato, flipping them over and kissing the smirk off his face.  “Come on, come on,” Hayato mutters under his breath, tugging at Kyouya’s shirt, pulling the buttons free and shoving it off his shoulders. Kyouya responds by biting at his neck, Hayato’s shirt having been left behind on the floor by the door to his room. 

“Eager,” he accuses, not that Hayato cares, given how quickly he’s palming over Kyouya’s shoulders and down his chest to reach for his belt buckle.

“Like you’re one to talk. Is that a spare tonfa or are you just happy to see me?” His pants are unceremoniously ripped open and shoved down low enough for Hayato to fit his hands inside and grab at his hard cock. 

Kyouya growls as Hayato reaches into the flap of his boxers to touch his cock directly, rough callouses brushing over sensitive flesh. In retaliation Kyouya breaks away from the bruised and bitten mess he’s made of Hayato’s neck and shoulder to rip Hayato’s pants off completely, leaving him bare.

He makes a pretty picture, the bites marks Kyouya makes sure to imprint on him standing out bright red against his pale skin as he leans back down to continue kissing him. His cock is also red and hard, a wet shine forming on the head as Hayato works both himself and Kyouya in each hand. 

“I-” Hayato pants, twisting his hand just so, “-have had a really stressful week. I deserve to get laid.”

Kyouya laughs, batting away Hayato’s hand to press both their cocks together, getting a rumbling moan that he wants to hear again. He starts to stroke them both off when pink smoke explodes and he’s looking at a much younger version of his lover.

“Damn that cow, I’m gonna-” Hayato pauses as he takes stock of his surroundings. Kyouya can see the dots connect as he looks from the room to the clothes lying in a pile on the floor to Kyouya on his hands and knees above him.

“Um,” Hayato turns bright red, especially as he looks down Kyouya’s naked chest to the half open pants before his gaze snaps back up, face even redder than before. Kyouya lets out a deep sigh through his nose and sits back for the coming explosion. 

“What the HELL?” Hayato’s voice breaks, squeaking as he scrambles out from underneath Kyouya. His eyes dart around the room, mouth opening and closing but nothing comes out. He’s avoiding looking at Kyouya the entire time, which irks him for some reason. 

Not that it matters, this Hayato isn’t  _his_ , he has no reason to treat him like he would his lover. 

“Out,” he says, face impassive as Hayato- no Gokudera’s eyes snap to him.

“What?” he squawks out. Annoyance starts building as Gokudera continues to stay put instead of heading for the door. “Are you seriously kicking me out?”

“I dislike repeating myself.” 

Gokudera bristles up, hands moving to the pockets where he keeps his explosives. Kyouya watches with interest. This Gokudera might be a weak opponent but he can still make a fight interesting. 

“I can’t believe what I see in you in the future!” Gokudera spits out, and oh? So he’s figured out their relationship. Not that it is something too difficult, given their positions earlier. 

“You know that once the five minutes are up future me is going to pop back to replace me right? No matter where I am?”

Kyouya pauses. Damn, he didn’t think of that. 

And just to prove his point pink smoke bursts out again, leaving behind his Hayato, wearing an apron and holding a bag of chips. 

“Finally,” Hayato says, crumbling up the empty bag and tossing it in the trash. He licks the salt off his fingers, distracting Kyouya long enough for Hayato to pin him back to the bed. “Now where were we?” he purrs out, hand reaching down Kyouya’s stomach.

 

* * *

 

 

**Bianchi/Chrome**

 

Being with Bianchi is an experience, Chrome thinks, taking a bite of the offered strawberry. Her lips wrap around the chocolate covered treat as she bites down, sweet and tart juice dripping down her lips and Bianchi’s fingers. It’s sweetened further when Bianchi licks up the drop rolling down her throat and follows it up to kiss her, sharing the taste of strawberry between them. 

“Another?” Bianchi offers, throwing the stem away. Chrome nods, watching as Bianchi leans over to the nightstand, picking up a piece of pineapple covered in dark chocolate. Bianchi’s breasts swing, naked and lovely as she leans back over Chrome, trailing the pineapple from her stomach and up between her breasts, making Chrome shiver. 

She’s always hated her body, her skin covered in scars from the accident, the way she’s always too pale, too skinny because of her missing organs. But Bianchi doesn’t make her feel that way, doesn’t care about her scars or that compared to her Chrome looks like a fragile doll. Bianchi kisses at her breasts, lapping at the trail of melted chocolate  before pressing close, pushing to sit between Chrome’s legs as she traces the pineapple over her lips, painting them with the bitter sweet of dark chocolate before pushing the wedge into her mouth. 

The taste of pineapple is sweet, bursting into her mouth as she swallows quickly, licking Bianchi’s fingertips as they retreat, liking how it makes her pupils dilate. Chrome wraps her fingers into her long hair, pulling her in for another kiss when pink smoke fills her vision.

The headboard she’s leaning against is gone, and the bed replaced by hardwood and there are young, panicked voices surrounding her. 

“Shit, shit, shit- Chrome got hit!”

“Oh god, wait, where’s the blanket!” 

“No time, here-” 

Something is thrown over her just as the smoke clears, landing over her lap. She blinks to see herself surrounded by the sixteen year old version of her friends who are all facing away from her?

Chrome looks down at the jerseys and hoodies tossed at her, clearly belonging to the four boys who have their eyes firmly covered.

“Are you decent?” Tsuna asks, face bright red.

Chrome looks back down at the clothes, thinks about the recent problems everyone has been complaining about and stifles a sigh. She has never been more grateful for Mist Flames as she wraps an illusion of a sundress around her. 

“I am now,” she says, standing up. She drops the jacket onto the table, recognizing Sawada Nana’s living room. Around her the boys sigh in relief, turning around, still a little red faced. 

“Oh thank God, after the last few times we, uh-” Hayato trails off, clearly embarrassed, pointing to a blanket folded on the kitchen table, apparently the blanket they were talking about when she arrived. 

“It was Tsuna’s idea! If we kept getting naked people here it would be better if they had something to cover up with!” Takeshi says brightly, shrugging his jersey back on. 

“I see,” inwardly Chrome is a little amused at their antics, but not enough to forget that they are interrupting. Her. DATE.

“Lambo-chan?” Chrome turns to the little boy, who’s clutching his Ten-Year-Bazooka with both hands and a stubborn pout. “I think we need to have a talk.” 

Four minutes later she poofs back to her present to see Bianchi dressed in a robe with half the plate of treats gone. 

“Did you have fun?” Bianchi asks with a knowing smile, pulling Chrome close. 

“Hmm,” she hummed in agreement, dropping the illusion to slide her knee between Bianchi’s thighs. “I don’t think we will be having any bazooka issues for a while.”

She made sure her warning about misusing the bazooka outside of emergencies would stick. She might feel a little bad about potentially traumatizing Lambo, but well. He shouldn’t interrupt her date.

She’ll make it up the the Present Lambo later. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, according to these dumb kids the answer to the "there are naked people showing up when the 10 year Bazooka is used" is to create a "Blanket Protocol" instead of confiscating the weapon. Thank God for TYL!Chrome.  
> Speaking of, baby!Chrome got to eat chocolate covered sweets and basically had a good chat with Bianchi while Chrome finished traumatizing the boys.


End file.
